Well Then
by platos.shore
Summary: Sometimes unspeakable things must be done for the greater good. Albus understood that. For the sake of the wizarding world, Hadrian Potter would have to know pain. It was unfortunate, but necessary. He was prepared for the consequences, he told himself. He was prepared for anything... Just maybe not this. In which necessary evils leave their hero an apathetic semi-sociopath.
1. Chapter 1

To say Petunia Dursley did not like her nephew Harry Potter would be like saying that having a limb amputated without general anesthetic might hurt just a little tiny bit: completely inaccurate and horrendously underplayed. In fact, if Petunia were to be honest with herself (which she mostly never was) she would admit that she didn't so much dislike her nephew as she did fear him. Because if there were one thing on this earth that completely and utterly terrified her, it was Hadrian Potter.

He wasn't natural. Of course Petunia knew that going in, there was no way her freak of a sister could've possible spawned a normal child being what she was. If she had any choice in the matter the little freak would've been off to an orphanage in no time at all, but she really didn't have a choice. Not with all the other freaks watching and the old man contaminating her household so she couldn't kick him out. She did try once or twice when he was smaller… but it never worked. She'd drop him off at some poor sod's doorstep, run to the car, slam the door, and rush off home only to see him curled against the floor like he never left. Such unnaturalness.

Well, it didn't matter. Petunia was nothing if not adaptable, and the little freak was nothing but compliant. She made sure he understood early on that he wasn't right, that her and her family didn't want him here and he should be thankful they didn't kick him out on the streets. She set him to earn his keep early, what with washing and cleaning and whatnot, and shoved him in his cupboard as early and often as the day would allow. He never complained, completed all her tasks as if they came from the gospel itself, and acted as if he himself did not exist on demand. On its own, that would've made the freak almost tolerable. If only he wasn't so _unnatural._

Vernon maintained if they beat him hard enough he would become normal. A little hard love had done him and his brothers wonders growing up, perhaps it could help straighten out the freak too he said. Petunia was all for the idea. That half-lidded stare the freak would always watch her with was getting on her nerves and if anyone need a bit of hard love, it was him. A couple taps on the wrist to get a normal child? Petunia was willing to try it. Surely _then_ the freak would stop all it's unnaturalness… right?

Petunia didn't know what to do with the results. She supposed she should've been happy the freak stopped with his unnatural acts… there were no more calls from the teacher saying something strange had happened at school, nothing in the house would randomly explode when she gave him a firm hand, and any punishment Vernon gave the boy stayed to see the next morning (which her dear husband was very pleased to discover). The freak was as normal as one of his kind could be thanks to her husband... so why was she still so afraid?

Hadrian (or Freak as he was mostly known) had no trouble admitting that there were things he did not understand. In fact, he had it on good authority (also known as Vernon Dursley) that he wasn't to understand anything at all because he was a freak. It never worked- he seemed to be very good at understanding things he wasn't meant to understand- but Hadrian understood that it was not his place to understand. If Vernon said that there was no such thing as magic (even though Hadrian understood that there _was_ and Vernon was lying because he was afraid) then he absolved to treat the world as if it wasn't there. Ignoring the magic wouldn't make it disappear, he knew, and letting it be left Vernon with fewer opportunities to grace him with "tough love".

He understood that Vernon's "tough love" wasn't a typical disciplinary pattern for people his age. He had watched all the other children in his class closely, looking for signs of discomfort and distrust in regards to the adults meant to watch them. If they were treated in the same manner as he was then they would be there. He watched the adults too. Perhaps the other children were handled more gently because they weren't freaks and that is why they were unafraid, Hadrian remembered thinking, but then why where the adults being so soft? Vernon and Petunia would've told them he was a freak. They liked saying out loud, he knew. They probably would've shouted it from the rooftop if they could physically get up there. After weeks of observing Hadrian could only come up with one conclusion: "tough love" wasn't normal.

But neither was he. Petunia made sure he knew this, as did Vernon. They liked to say it was because he was a freak and was born a freak and all freaks aren't normal, but Hadrian understood it was because of magic. He could see magic. He could feel it, he could taste it in the air he breathed and watch it dance across his fingertips when he made her move. Petunia and Vernon did not like it when he made her move, and as far as he could tell, couldn't see her either. If being normal was "conforming to a standard; usual, typical, or expected" (he looked it up) then he wasn't normal. He understood that.

What Hadrian didn't understand is why he should _care_.


	2. Chapter 2

' _This,'_ Hadrian decided, _'wasn't natural.'_

Of course it wasn't much of a surprise either. Any and all things pertaining to him weren't 'natural' to begin with, so it was a safe assumption a letter with his name on the front wasn't going to be anything Petunia or Vernon would approve of. Even more so if the letter was addressed as "Harry Potter (his name was Hadrian, not Harry) Number 4 Privet Drive (was that their address?) Surry, England, Cupboard Underneath the Stairs (something these people couldn't possibly know as Petunia made it _very_ clear he wasn't to tell anyone anything at all)". Hadrian should've understood after seeing the address that the letter would not lead to good things (he did) and left it in the entryway to die (he didn't). He most certainly should've at least hidden it (he didn't think of it, why was someone writing to him?) or avoided showing it to anyone (though to be fair Hadrian had no prior reason to believe Dudley could move that fast) so there wouldn't be a fuss. These things were something he already understood, just forgot to implement. So, no. Not a surprise.

Sighing in absolute silence, Hadrian shifted against the car door mulling this piece of information over. This situation had been preventable (or could've been) so maybe it _was_ his fault they were in the middle of nowhere just before a storm. Petunia certainly thought so. She had spent the last hour and a half glaring at him from the rearview mirror, wordlessly promising him pain. His next 'lesson' was not going to be a fun one.

It wasn't as if he hadn't been prepared when he picked it up. The letter had looked ordinary enough, if a bit old fashioned (just what kind of person still uses parchment, he wondered), but Hadrian could feel the magic on it. It came off in _waves_. So he wasn't ignorant when he ignored all common sense and took it… just mystified. No one had ever written him before. No one had ever _talked_ to him before, not willingly. So if he gave into a little curiosity about a letter with his name and his _cupboard_ on it, what was the harm?

Hadrian also decided he would have to stop thinking like that. _What was the harm?_ Really, what was wrong with him. There was always harm for freaks like him. Perhaps he hadn't understood the powers available to those who sent the letter. He admittingly underestimated the amount of screeching a letter addressed to him and his cupboard would produce, but that couldn't be helped. Outside of earning his keep and his lessons, he did not exist in the Dursley household. He had no previous experience to refer to. And perhaps he didn't accurately predict the persistence these people possessed and what lengths they would go to in order to talk to him (him?)... but really, was there even a proper way to predict the house being filled top to bottom with letters? There was barely any room left to walk when Vernon dragged him outside.

"Mom," Dudley piped up from the seat next to him, having stayed unusually silent the entire car ride. Hadrian pulled himself out of his musings to pay attention. "I'm hungry."

Petunia turned her head from watching the rather twitchy stalking Vernon to give Dudley a small smile and himself a frigid glare. She obviously saw this situation as Hadrian's fault and not the ones who buried their home in ancient letterings. Hadrian was entering the point wondering if she was right. "I know, Diddy-kins, I know. It'll be just a bit more longer."

She was lying. She didn't know how much longer Vernon's fit was going to be. No one did. They had already been dragged to three separate hotels and drove across a good portion of the country without stopping within a few days. "I want to go home" Dudley wined.

Hadrian did as well, which was the main reason this situation felt so unnatural. He and Dudley had never agreed on anything in their short time alive (though Hadrian was willing to admit they might've found one or two more commonalities if they could stand being around each other. As it was, this car ride was the longest time they'd ever spent in each other's proximity) and just the simple thought of 'agree' and 'Dudley' going into the same sentence without some negative in between was perplexing for him. Nevermind that Vernon was having a mental breakdown trying to outrun magic.

Needless to say it wasn't working well.

"It's Monday!" Dudley continued when Petunia didn't give the proper response. He was still having trouble coming to terms with the loss of his instant gratification. "The Great Humbero is on tonight! I want to go somewhere that has a TV!" Again, Hadrian found himself agreeing with Dudley. He didn't really care about having a TV or not (he didn't watch it anyway) but being somewhere with a TV increased his chances of being somewhere with a flat surface. They had to sleep in the car last night, and as he had come to find out, sleeping in the backseat of a car was more uncomfortable than sleeping in a cupboard underneath the stairs.

Agreeing with Dudley twice in one day. _'This is very, very unnatural.'_

Petunia sighed with a pained expression. "I know Diddy-kins, but-" She was saved from trying to come up with a good excuse to soothe the irate Dudley when there was a hard **THUMP** on the hood of the car. Vernon had apparently stopped his paranoid pacing and was motioning for them to get out of the car with his hand, grinning all the way. Hadrian felt the sudden need to apologize for his thoughts about sleeping in the backseat.

"Found the perfect place!" Vernon said after they had all gotten out, grinning like a madman. They were parked at the edge of an old dock overlooking an inky black sea. There was an elderly man with a rowboat stationed at the shore (he looked 'sketchy' as Dudley would say) and a small bit of land was just visible in the middle of the bay. The picture itself was unsettling, but it seemed Vernon hadn't noticed. He just stood grinning at the sea, clutching a long package in his hand. Hadrian and Petunia shared a look. Petunia never looked at him if she could help it. The feeling of unnaturalness increased. _'Is this how they feel when they look at me?'_ Hadrian wondered. If it was then some of their behavior felt more explainable. "This gentleman is being kind enough to take us over there."

"Uhhh... Dad…"

Dudley was wholistically ignored. Hadrian felt uneasy. Maybe Vernon _had_ gone mad.

"Looks like a bit of a storm coming, yeah?" Vernon continued. Taking a quick peek at the sky he agreed there was a storm coming, though Hadrian wouldn't have described it as "a bit". The clouds looked like they were made of Petunia's last attempt at making pea soup: thick, dark, and mullen. "No chance of those letters getting in now, eh?"

Vernon looked absolutely gleeful, thinking he'd won. With one last grin at the sea he told them to get in. Hadrian didn't say anything as he piled into the boat with the rest of his 'family'. Partially it was because Vernon didn't like it when he spoke, he said it was too soft and loud and creepy and _not allowed_ , but mostly it was because Vernon was wrong. The magic that had trailed after them from their house to the hotel to the car to the rock had not dissipated in the slightest. It was an odd sort, one that felt like a gentle wrap around the wrist and smelled like the smoke after a 'cotton' scented candle was blown out. He settled himself against the boat. He probably could've moved the magic away from them if he was given a little bit of time; when magic had such a soft feeling to it Hadrian noticed it wasn't as stubborn as it could've been. He had done it before with another type of magic that tasted like sugared citrus so it wasn't as if he didn't know how. But the soft magic was rather clingy, so it couldn't be coaxed away in just a minute or two. Moving it away would mean time, then he'd have to explain to Vernon what he was doing, which in turn would involve speaking and using the M-word.

They were already being carted to a hut in the middle of the sea… he decided not to chance it.

 **BOOM!**

Hadrian's eyes opened immediately. The roof (or what could be called a roof according to Dudley) stared back at him just as it did last night when he went to bed. He had been pleased to find out that while Dudley's wishes for a TV remained unanswered, his preference for a flat surface was fulfilled. The hut had no heating system and no food, but Hadrian learned a long time ago not to be picky. A flat surface was enough. Raising himself slightly, Hadrian tilted his head and listened. The "little bit" storm had come in during the night and was making a terrible racket with its rain and hail and wind. Outside of that, however, there was nothing to be heard. For a second he wondered if he had imagined the thundering bang that shook him awake.

 **BOOM!**

"Where's the cannon…?"

Apparently not. Hadrian pulled himself from his floor, herding away from the door. Dudley did his best to look coherent. Hadrian didn't miss the movement coming from the foot of the stairs even though he kept his eyes trained on the door. An armed Vernon (ah, so that's what the package was for) and a terrified Petunia crept downward, gun pointed at the door. Dudley quickly scrambled up from his own makeshift bed, nearly tripping over his blanket in the process. It was amusing to watch how they grouped together: Vernon, Petunia, and Dudley on one half of the hut and himself on the other. Vernon declared something probably meant to incite fear, but the words got lost in the sound of the storm. Hadrian backed up further into the corner around the fireplace and waited. The magic outside felt like a hearth and smelt like a dogs pelt.

 **BOOM! CRASH!**

The door broke off its hinges and crashed to the ground with a force the whole hut felt. In a moment of distraction, Hadrian spared the fallen door a small frown. It was rather cold outside, and while the door wasn't doing the best job of keeping them warm and he wasn't to be picky, it was doing _something_. Just seconds after it fell down the hut felt as if it was stuffed in a freezer. Refocusing his attention to the reason he was now cold and the possible threat, Hadrian blinked.

' _Well then.'_

The man (man?) in the doorway of the hut was as big as the doorway of the hut. He was tall and wide and imposing, but his magic was warm. Very, very warm. He was gruff looking with a full beard and long hair, and he wore a trench coat pulled over his entire form. With the door gone, the feeling of the man's magic intensified to the point Hadrian could almost taste the hearth's embers on the tip of his tongue and feel the dog's fur underneath his fingertips.

' _Though that doesn't help me actually get warm… did you have to knock the door down?'_ Hadrian thought.

As if in answer, the giant stepped inside and pulled the door back up into its proper place as if it was as heavy as himself. The hut immediately warmed. "Sorry 'bout that." His voice was as warm as his magic. "Couldn't make a cup of tea, could 'ya?" He lumbered into the space of the hut like he was the one to have slept there, either ignoring or not noticing the way the floorboards creaked. The Dursleys, Hadrian noted, were frozen in shock. "It hasn't exactly been an easy journey." Hadrian felt much the same.

' _Is the giant man going to introduce himself…?'_ He thought, clinging to his corner a bit more. This turned out to be a bad idea.

The giant turned to him.

Immediately, Hadrian pushed a bit of his own magic through his body just in case this turned into a lesson. This man didn't seem to know the Dursley's (as they were still frozen and ashen) but Hadrian learned when he was younger that that wasn't a guarantee for his safety. Or not safety per say, because freaks didn't really get to be safe, but his 'not-pain'. He couldn't really think of the right word at the moment with the man smiling down at him (since when do people smile at him?) and the shock running through his body. He made a mental note to look it up later.

"And there's little Harry!," The giant exclaimed, throwing up his arms and keeping eye contact with him. Hadrian mentally checked that it was him the giant was talking to and not some ghost he hadn't noticed yet. Sadly it was. The entire ordeal had become more than just unsettling to Hadrian. A giant came through the door- sorry, _broke_ the door- of their hut in the middle of the sea, walked in as if he belonged there, and immediately addressed Hadrian as 'Harry'. The fact that the giant spoke like he knew him made Hadrian miss his cupboard. "I haven't seen you since you where a baby!" The giant was practically beaming at him (yes, him. He double checked twice) with an expression Hadrian had only seen Vernon give Dudley before. Happiness and… pride. Yes, pride was the right word. There was also a sense of familiarity, one Hadrian did not share.

' _... Who… is this guy…?'_ If there had ever been a giant to hold him as an infant, Hadrian never knew about it.

 **CLACK-CLACK**

Hadrian turned to the other side of the hut where Vernon had unfroze. He kept at the foot of the stairs and a good distance away from the giant, but he held the loaded gun at level his chest. Offhandedly Hadrian wondered if that size gun would be sufficient in killing the giant should he try and shoot. It couldn't have been any longer than the giants forearm. "I demand you leave at once sir! You are breaking and entering!"

The giant stalked towards them looking thoroughly unimpressed.

"Ah, shut up Dursley, you great prune." The giant grabbed the gun from Vernon's hands (ignoring his protests) and twisted it in a knot (well that answers his previous question, now doesn't it?) before handing it back (ignoring Vernon's look of fear). He turned back to Hadrian. "I got something for 'ya," he said while rummaging around in his coat pockets, "Though I reckon I might've sat on it at one point."

Hadrian just stuck to his corner and stared. Never, in his life, had he _gotten_ something. He had been given things: lessons, a cupboard, chores and things of that sort, but they were never something he wanted to receive. He watched the giant warely. Just what was this giant going to give him?

"Ah ha!" The giant beamed, pushing a box in his direction. It was thinly filmed, colored a dark gray, and was indeed slightly crumpled. Hadrian reached out for it slowly, waiting for the giant to laugh and pull it back. It had been a year or so since Dudley had tried that trick on him so it was probably overdue. Dudley liked to rotate his menaces. When the giant made no move to withdraw the box, Hadrian took it (it was heavier than he expected) and cradled it to his chest. The giant continued to look at him expectantly.

' _Oh right'_ Hadrian thought, feeling a bit stupid _'There's usually something in the box isn't there?'_ At least that's what he observed from Dudley receiving boxes. With the giant acting so oddly, so _friendly_ , Hadrian decided to use Dudley as a starting point for his expected mannerisms with the giant. And Dudley, upon receiving a box, always immediately opened it. It probably wasn't the best idea to open a box given to you by a giant, Hadrian admitted to himself silently, but he had also been given a box by a _giant_. How does one not open something like that?

Curiosity getting the better of him, Hadrian carefully opened the lid of the box and looked inside.

' _A cake?'_ He thought it confusion. It was a cake, there was no mistake about that. He had watched Dudley eat enough of them to know it. But why was he being given one? Hadrian scanned the top. "Happy Birthday Harry" it said. His name wasn't Harry, it was Hadrian, but it was… was it his birthday? Hadrian didn't know. His concept of time wasn't the best. In any case, it was clear he had been given… a gift. A gift? No, maybe not, Hadrian reminded himself. He could want payment later. And depending on what the giant wanted him to do, the cake could be anything from a grace to an allowance. Hadrian glanced up to the giant thankful that those options had a common variable.

"Thank you." One must always be grateful for that which is given.

The giant beamed. On the other side of the hut, Hadrian noticed Vernon give a small twitch at his voice. His eyes went back and forth between the giant and himself and his knotted firearm at the base of the stairs. Suddenly having the giant so close to him didn't seem like a bad thing.

"Was nothing Harry! Just a bit of cooking. Now, I think it's time you got your letter." The giant went back into his coat pockets and pulled out yet _another_ copy of the ancient letter. Hadrian took it more quickly this time, having decided that the giant was probably going to let him have it in the end anyways. Of course, this was the point where Vernon decided to come back to life.

"He won't be going!" He growled, glaring at Hadrian from around the giant. Hadrian decided he prefered Vernon glaring at him when there was a giant in the way. He also noticed that even without reading the letter, Vernon knew what it was about.

' _Going…?'_ Hadrian looked at the letter in his hands. Was he going somewhere? He set to work on opening the letter.

"And I suppose a great muggle like you is going to stop him?" The giant asked sarcastically. Hadrian's eyes flickered over the words of the letter once he got it open, subconsciously noting the word "muggle".

' _A school for magic?'_ Vernon's mental breakdown almost made sense to him now. Anything with the M-word sent Vernon into a fit of panicked rage. That's why Hadrian had (mostly) stopped using it around them. He still coaxed her to heal him after one of Vernon's 'lessons', but that was ok because Vernon didn't know. Magic was such a wonderful thing.

"We swore when we took him in that we'd stamp out all that freakishness, and we did! He won't be going!" Vernon yelled. His face had taken on a violent shade of purple that Hadrian was well acquainted with. As subtlely as he could manage, Hadrian inched out of the corner and hid behind the giant. If he could twist a gun into a knot, Hadrian mused, what where the chances he could break Vernon too?

"Lily and James Potter's son not go to Hogwarts?" The giant scoffed. "Nonsense! His names been down for as long as he's been born! He'll go to Hogwarts to learn under the greatest of teachers and under the supervision of the greatest headmaster Hogwarts has ever seen: Albus D-"

"I AM NOT PAYING FOR SOME CRACKPOT FOOL TO TEACH HIM MAGIC TRICKS!"

Hadrian hastily reinserted the distance he had between him and the giant. He was sure the Dursley's could not feel it, but the giant's magic flared out violently in his anger. The warmth he had before has hot now and his voice tinged with animalistic coil. He pulled out a pink umbrella from his coat and stalked over to them. "NEVER. INSULT. ALBUS. DUMBLEDORE. INFRONT. OF ME."

The Dursley's shrank back as he raised the tip of the umbrella, pointing it at Dudley. Hadrian could only watch in utter fascination as the giant's magic curled around the shaft of the umbrella, intertwining with something existing in the wood itself until it became something new. The magic he was familiar with very rarely took visible shape. The only exception he could think of was the fractured dome that existed outside of the Dursley's home, and even then it was stationary. But this… this was _alive_. It flickered and writhed and positively _lashed_ out at Dudley with complete certainty and precision. It grew and twisted and combined itself with Dudley's PJs until they were one. It curled in on itself, fading and composing and solidifying… Hadrian had never been more entranced with anything in his entire life.

He distantly watched Vernon drag Petunia and the newly fitted Dudley upstairs, not really paying attention to the threats Vernon threw at him along the way. Normally he would've. It was always good to know what lessons he could avoid. But now? Not it didn't matter. Vernon could give him all the lessons he wished. Hadrian was going to Hogwarts to learn magic and _nothing_ was going to stop him.


End file.
